


Never let me go

by Mischieftess



Series: Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Catharsis, Explicit Consent, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Waverly takes charge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischieftess/pseuds/Mischieftess
Summary: Nicole's been having nightmares and doubts her ability to control her own mind and body. Waverly suggests an innovative solution to keep them both safe and have a little fun along the way.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206680
Comments: 14
Kudos: 159





	Never let me go

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is placed between 4a and 4b. This is picking up the kinky relationship portrayed in “Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart” with the understanding that they’ve been engaging in kinky sex since season 2. Thus WayHaught will not go through a complex negotiation here; however, please do understand that this BDSM scene is taking place within the context of negotiated, informed consent established in that fic. 
> 
> Content warnings: Catharsis of trauma through BDSM. BDSM is not therapy, and people should not use it as such. However, the intensity and power exchange/release can bring up very complex emotions that can be processed in a safe place, such as with informed, consenting, trustworthy scene partners and, as illustrated in this case, committed relationships with people that understand the trauma and are willing to support the person going through it. That’s what I’m illustrating here. I have personally participated in several cathartic scenes from the top side and one from the bottom side. I cannot accurately portray the sheer breadth of possible outcomes from catharsis like this and do not intend to speak for anyone other than myself and these characters in my hands. Please do not seek out BDSM as psychotherapy!
> 
> ALL THAT SAID: Hi y’all, good to see you here again, (or if my work is new to you, welcome). I decided to work on my writer's block with this fic by jumping ahead to the gap between season 4a and 4b, and it turns out they have some things to work through. I hope y’all enjoy!

Nicole tried to sneak out unnoticed, she really did. It had worked the previous night. All she’d had to do was pretend to go to sleep. After Waverly’s breaths lengthened and her body relaxed, Nicole could extricate herself and head downstairs. It  _ hurt _ to leave – she'd dreamed of having Waverly in her arms for 18 months, and now she planned to leave that longed-for comfort behjnd. But Nicole didn’t want to disturb Waverly's sleep, not so soon after they’d somehow managed to escape the Clantons’ blood feud.

Restoring peace to Purgatory after the Clantons were  _ neutralized _ had been a long, tiring slog and they'd just barely started. Wynonna had been missing often in the week since Nicole had died and come back to life, making excuses that no one believed for her steadily more rumpled appearance and the stench of whiskey. Doc had been outright absent. Rachel had been mourning Billy and was very hard to reach. Waverly’d been … odd, clingy, but probably the most functional of the gang. And Nicole, well. Nicole had started having the dreams.

Tonight, she managed to get out of bed, get dressed, and tiptoe through Waverly’s bedroom door without waking her fiancée. But the stairs, those traitorous stairs that she’d lovingly repaired and re-varnished (and christened with Waverly’s home _ coming _ ), they betrayed her just as she was about to make her escape. 

The alarming  **squeak** was loud enough to wake the dead.

“Mm, Nicole?” Waverly called. A light switched on.

“Hey,” Nicole said, stepping back into Waverly’s bedroom. 

Waverly was sitting up, squinting at her in puzzlement. Honey-brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, endearingly messy as she swept it back from her face.

“Where are you going?” Waverly yawned, looking at her phone screen. “It’s only 11:30.”

Nicole drew breath to lie, to say she was just going for a drink of water, but she didn't. They’d gotten past the point where such lies would be harmless, and she was just being a coward, after all. Besides, Waverly’s quick eyes were scanning her head to toe, seeing the jeans and flannel shirt, making connections. 

“I was just … gonna go and sit somewhere until morning.”

“Why?”

“You know how I’ve been having some dreams?”

“Yeah, bad ones, but you said you don’t remember–”

“I … do, kinda, remember.” Nicole fiddled with the buttons on her flannel.

Waverly patted the bed. “Come talk to me, baby. Don’t stand there in the doorway.”

Nicole came to the bed and sat. She always came close when Waverly asked her to. How could she not?

“Tell me what’s going on.” Waverly sat, chin propped on one knee, hair mussed, looking warm and snug in her flannel pajamas. The nights had been warm lately, yet Waverly had traded in her skimpy tanks and nightgowns for something more substantial. With a pang of guilt, Nicole wondered if Waverly had been cold at night since she’d started wandering.

Nicole drew a deep breath. “I keep dreaming that I’m killing you, Waverly. We’re in bed, just like this, and I roll over and put my hands around your neck. It’s so  _ real _ , and even when I realize it’s a dream, I can’t wake up until you’ve stopped moving _. _ It’s terrible, and I wake up convinced that the Clantons got to me again and you’re  _ dead _ .”

Even the memory of the dream rushed up into her eyes, the remembered fear and desolation upon waking making tears start to flood the bottom of her vision.

Waverly didn’t say a thing, simply crawled over and into Nicole’s lap. Nicole squeezed her, tucking her chin to rub her nose against the crown of Waverly’s head, tickling it with her sweet-smelling hair.

“You couldn’t hurt me even when that bitch actually did have her claws in you, Nicole. And you got yourself free, remember? Even if it was  _ stupidly _ risky.” 

The ire in Waverly’s tone was real. While Nicole had been trying to come back from the dead, Waverly had killed for her, just to stop the madness.

“But she was really going after Doc, Waverly, and I did almost get everybody killed! I almost burned the house down! I know it doesn’t really make sense, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“Ok, so, your solution is to sneak out of bed and, what, sit up with coffee until the sun comes up? What about tomorrow night, or the next?”

“I don’t know, but I just don’t feel like it’s safe to sleep here with you. Maybe in the back of my car?”

Waverly turned in her lap so she could meet Nicole’s eyes. 

“You’re  _ not _ sleeping in the car. There’s got to be a way to make you feel safer about this, because I don’t believe for one minute that you’d hurt a hair on my head.” She paused. “Wait, what if we think outside the box?”

There was a light of mischief in her eyes, something Nicole was very familiar with, if in a different, sexier context.

“What do you mean?”

“What if we made it impossible for you to strangle me? We still have those mitts of yours, right?”

Nicole nodded, mind suddenly full of white noise. The mitts in question were a combination sensory deprivation and bondage device. They enclosed the hand entirely and were padded so that the wearer couldn’t grasp anything through the leather. They also locked at the wrist with velcro so that they were impossible to take off without thumbs. 

Waverly sprang out of bed, a slight figure in her pjs as she went for the under-bed storage boxes. Inside one of them, Nicole knew, rested her bag of kink toys, a collection that had increased in size since she had first introduced it to Waverly. It had been stored here since she’d given up the lease on her little house in town (at least, she’d stopped getting a bill for it, and all of her messages to her landlord had gone unanswered). 

They hadn’t really gotten back into the swing of things after Waverly had come back. Oh, they’d had  _ tons _ of sex. Both of them were covered in bruises from mouths and hands and stairs and kitchen tables. But it was just sex, if sometimes frenzied and rough. It had only been a week of having each other again, after all, and eighteen long months (for Nicole) before that. Of course they'd had a great deal of sex.

The time they’d lost ached, especially because Waverly didn’t share the same depth of loss that Nicole did. There was no one to talk to about it. If she was being completely honest with herself, Nicole would have restarted their kink life soon, anxious to share that incredible level of intimacy with Waverly again, but she just … hadn’t been able to take charge since she’d found out that she’d given her body and mind over to Margot Jean Clanton’s manipulations.

“Here they are,” Waverly said, emerging from her search with the two mitts connected by a carabiner. They looked like small, slender boxing gloves without thumbs in black fabric and leather. 

Nicole nodded, wetting her lips with her tongue. She felt a little numb from the speed of Waverly’s decision, but she also saw the brilliance of the idea. Without thumbs, Nicole couldn’t hurt Waverly. What a  _ relief _ this could be.

"Please,” Nicole said, mouth dry. “You’re right, these will help, I want to put them on.”

Waverly nodded, tone businesslike as she said, “Absolutely. Do you want your feet cuffed as well?” 

Waverly lifted those cuffs, thick and padded with short clips tethering them together. 

Nicole nodded through a flash of arousal, a pull that started in her gut and went lower. It was confusing, she was still so upset by the thought of her dreams, but she couldn’t help finding the thought of being tied up by Waverly interesting in the best way. And Waverly’s touch after all those cold, lonely nights? It was like water in the desert.

They had played with this dynamic before, of course, years ago when Waverly first discovered Nicole’s kinky secret past, but it had been so long since they even opened the kink bag for fun. The fuzzy handcuffs had been pretty much the only thing they’d pulled out since before Waverly went to the Garden and left Nicole behind. And even those had been grabbed to keep Nicole from hurting anyone, not for fun. 

_ Though, technically, this is just to keep me from hurting Waverly, _ Nicole thought, slightly disappointed.

A caveat came to mind. "What if someone attacks the Homestead?"

"I'm a better shot with a rifle than you are, and we've got Rachel and Wynonna downstairs. But," Waverly's face was serious. "If you don't want to do this, we can find another way to make you feel safe."

Nicole shook her head. "No, I just … thinking about the Homestead is a habit, that's all."

"I swear we will keep you safe long enough for you to get out of these cuffs and put on pants."

Nicole smiled, relaxing. "Pants are important. Okay, let's do it."

Waverly clambered back onto the bed with the gear she'd collected. “Go pee,” she ordered. “You don’t want to have to wake me up for that. And …” Again, her eyes crinkled with some private mischief. “I want you naked when you come back to bed.”

At Nicole’s startled glance, Waverly shrugged. “I haven’t tied you up in ages, we might as well have some fun with it. If you’re ok with that?”

Nicole blinked. “Green!” Then she scrambled for the bathroom, doing as ordered. When she came back, Waverly had changed into a silky green nightgown. 

Nicole swallowed and tried not to run toward the sight of her girlfriend reclining on the bed in that satiny, green fabric, her nipples poking hard through the fabric, the cuffs laid out next to her. The fires Waverly had lit inside her roared to life, ready for whatever might happen.

_ Shit, am I dreaming? Is this how my dreams are going now? I like this so much better. _

“You ok with this?” Waverly asked, propping herself up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Anxiety touched her face, making her serious again. “I know it’s been awhile, but I remember everything we agreed on. Do you have any changes you want to make?”

When Nicole slid onto the bed, she felt the full impact of her nudity in the brush of sheets against her ass, as well as the lascivious look Waverly gave her. Still, Waverly didn’t touch her yet, waiting for consent.

“Yeah,” Nicole said. “Stoplights still ok?”

“Green,” Waverly said, grinning, and all that clever excitement she’d been smothering until she’d gotten permission began to fill her eyes and the curve of her mouth. “You’re mine for the night, until I let you go. Sound good?”

Nicole licked her lips, processing her response from Waverly’s take-charge attitude. She had a moment of confusion, asking herself if she’d been this submissive before, but maybe she’d just forgotten how sexy it was when Waverly held all the cards. She nodded.

“I need verbal consent, baby.”

“Yes, please, tie me up Waverly,” Nicole said, words stumbling across her tongue and trippin over her lips. She held out her hands and Waverly took them in her own.

“That’s my good girl,” Waverly purred, kissing Nicole’s wrist, eyes flicking up to scan Nicole’s face when Nicole sucked in a breath at the contact and the praise.

“Green,” Nicole whispered, sensation tingling across her skin, up her arm, down her spine.

Waverly dragged her teeth against the thin, fragile skin of Nicole’s inner wrist, tongue caressing, and Nicole tried desperately not to squirm. Waverly was a consummate tease, she’d learned that early, and was wont to take her time with every move. For the first time, Nicole wondered if her fear of taking charge since Waverly’s return from the Garden had been seen as a rejection of their formerly highly-kinky sex life, if Waverly had been starving for this as much as Nicole had, even though she hadn’t experienced all of those quiet, horrifying months. 

Waverly slid the mitt onto Nicole’s hand, slowly, carefully, then fastened the velcro closed so that it touched the skin but didn’t squeeze. 

Nicole’s heart sank. “Velcro, I can open that with my teeth.”

Waverly looked up, then pulled the velcro open. “That’d wake me up, Nicole. Even if you do get it open with your teeth, you’d need both.”

Nicole nodded. She was right. “Okay.” Waverly smoothed the velcro back down, wiggling it to make sure that the teeth caught. Then she pulled up the other one.

The slow burn of Nicole’s arousal was rising with every touch. On her arms and shoulders, the hair prickled into goosebumps as both hands were trapped, useless, inside the cushioned mitts. She flexed her hands inside, feeling how the thick fabric blocked her ability to pinch, grab, or otherwise get herself free. The helplessness was intoxicating, new, different,  _ safe _ .

Waverly clipped the mitts together, the carabiner making a final snap, then tugged on them to pull Nicole close for a kiss. Nicole followed, helpless to resist, skin humming with anticipation. Waverly’s mouth was hot and Nicole moaned, tasting Waverly, catching her slippery lip between her teeth. Then she jerked as she felt her breast cupped, her nipple rolled between clever fingers.

“This is turning you on,” Waverly said, words buzzing against Nicole’s lips.

“Yeah,” Nicole said.

“Good. I wanna make you come before you go back to sleep. Here, lie on your back.”

Nicole did as ordered, her breath coming faster now that Waverly had spoken her plans into their little enclosed world, her body’s anticipation reflecting Waverly’s excitement. Elbowing her way onto her back after she plopped onto her side, Nicole raised her arms. Her hands were pulled above her head, and she craned her neck to see Waverly expertly tying the carabiner to the headboard. 

Once Nicole’s hands were secured, Waverly traced her hand down Nicole’s face, running over every bone and muscle just under the surface. A thumb caressed the mole under her left eye, then rested on the dimple below it, pressing as Waverly moved in to kiss her once again. Nicole writhed slightly, rubbing her legs together to feel her clit slide against the inside of her pussy lips. She was  _ wet _ , she could hear it when she moved.

“Tch, none of that,” Waverly said, pulling back. 

Nicole opened her mouth to protest but jumped as a loud  **slap** echoed off the ceiling. Then the sting hit her, delayed, and she made a noise, open-mouthed and needy even as she flinched the affected thigh away from its mate.

“I decide what you feel and when, Nicole,” Waverly said, hand gliding whisper-light over the stinging skin. “Understand?”

“Green,” Nicole agreed. Waverly's hand was  _ close _ to her pussy, the pain-pleasure of the slap still dancing across her skin with the tickling touches.

She was rewarded with Waverly’s, “Good girl,” purred into her ear.

“Since I’m here,” Waverly said, and instead of finishing her sentence she grasped one leg cuff, letting it drag over Nicole’s skin as she scooted down her body.

Nicole proffered her foot eagerly and was rewarded with a kiss to her ankle, breath stirring the leg hair she’d never started shaving again since Waverly came back. The leather was wrapped around her ankle, the tongue ringing against its buckle as the straps were locked in place. The second followed more swiftly, and then Nicole heard the sound of rope as one ankle was tethered to each bedpost.

“There,” Waverly said. “Now I can take my time with you.”

“Shit,” Nicole said, partly due to the thought of how thoroughly Waverly can take her time, and partly due to the diabolical look in Waverly’s eyes. Wiggling against the ropes, she relished the sensation of being completely trapped.

Waverly winked at her, then straddled her waist, looking her over with a proprietary air. Her weight, warm and solid, was something for Nicole to anchor herself to.

“You know, I’ve always loved it when you put yourself at my disposal. Ever since that first time, remember?”

Oh, Nicole remembered every second of the first time Waverly had tied her up. She’d known she was a nominal switch before then, of course, but the way Waverly owned the space she was in while topping had made Nicole’s submissive side sit up and take  _ notice _ .

“Yeah,” Nicole said. “You were spectacular.”

“Mm, you always get so into it when I tie you up.” 

Waverly’s touches started low, on Nicole’s stomach, causing Nicole to flex and wiggle. They gravitated toward Nicole’s breasts, her thumbs rubbing life and sensation into the nipples, squeezing, massaging gently, the way Nicole liked it best. Nicole’s skin heated with the touches, arousal tugging at her pussy as she clenched just to feel something, even empty and untouched as she was. 

Waverly’s heated weight on Nicole’s hips shifted, bringing Nicole’s attention to the fact that Waverly’s pussy was bare underneath her nightgown. Prickly, wet warmth rubbed against her skin and the scents from both of them filled the air with potential, making Nicole’s mouth water.

There was only a moment’s warning when Waverly leaned back, and then she slapped Nicole’s left breast. The sting was breathtaking. While Nicole gasped out a desperate curse, Waverly's mouth covered the reddening skin. Nicole had always responded to pain in bed like this, with arousal and increased sensitivity, and no one knew her better than Waverly. Even after all of this time, their disjointed experiences of the Garden and Earth, they still connected like this.

Rocking her hips, seeking any relief for the ache at her core, Nicole pulled at her bonds and whined as Waverly’s tongue and teeth found her nipple, sparking more hot pressure straight to her clit, adding to the pool of wetness she could feel growing with every helpless clench. 

When Waverly came up for a kiss, her mouth was hot, demanding, and Nicole opened to give her everything even as fingers buried themselves in her hair. Gasping, tugging helplessly at the ropes to remind herself that she was at Waverly’s mercy, Nicole sank into the kiss and took the sensations Waverly gave her, amplified by love and need and helplessness into a fast-growing ache.

“I love how horny you get when I tease, Nicole.”

“Really goddamn horny,” Nicole mumbled. 

“What if I just went to sleep, right here, and didn’t let you come?”

Nicole made a sound of pure need. Waverly wouldn’t do that to her, would she? “That would be  _ so _ mean.”

The throatiness in Waverly’s voice implied that she was just teasing. “You belong to me, I get to be mean.”

“You do, I do, but Waverly, please, it almost hurts, I’m so turned on.”

“But what about me?” Waverly’s grind against Nicole's stomach was deliberate, slow. She shuddered, eyes flickering closed. “I’m turned on too. How about I use your mouth first, then we’ll see.”

“Oh, yeah, please, I like that idea,” spilled out of Nicole’s mouth, even as Waverly started to move.

Waverly lifted off of Nicole and the nightgown went flying, revealing Waverly in all her glory to the bedside lamp and Nicole’s eager eyes. Love bites and other, less pleasant bruises littered her skin, but she was so beautiful to Nicole's eyes that the marks barely mattered, except where Nicole had marked her in the days since her return from the Garden. 

As she lifted a leg over Nicole’s face, gripping the headboard, Waverly said, “Do a good job and I’ll let you come tonight.”

“Please, fmmph,” Nicole said as every sense was filled with Waverly, her mouth flooding with eagerness mixed with Waverly’s own unique scent-taste-feel as her pussy spread open over Nicole’s mouth. Nicole rolled her neck, using her tongue and lips to clear a path through Waverly’s ample bush, smearing sweet, hot wetness across her nose, cheeks, chin, and neck, finding Waverly's softest, slickest places with her tongue.

“That’s it, baby, do a good job and I’ll make you come before you spend the night tied up in my arms,” Waverly panted, open-mouthed and dark-eyed through the curtain of her hair.

Nicole’s groans were muffled through her nose and, well, Waverly’s muff as she threw everything, every mote of focus and skill and strength of tongue into coaxing Waverly’s pussy into absolute, sopping-wet bliss. Without the use of her hands – the reminder tugged again somewhere deep inside her core, making her want to rub her thighs together but she  _ couldn’t _ because her legs were tied apart,  _ damn _ – Nicole had only Waverly’s hand on her scalp, Waverly’s voice, and her own senses to guide her.

As always, the sheer eroticism of eating Waverly, of bringing her pleasure and coaxing those  _ sounds _ out of her mouth only served to make Nicole’s pussy ache more and drive her determination to push Waverly over the edge. Nicole found Waverly’s clit with her lips, teased the hood with the tip of her tongue, sucked and slurped and let her eyes close as she surrendered to the feel of Waverly pushing, grinding, sliding against her. 

“Shit,” Waverly muttered. 

Nicole hummed, happily slurping her way through Waverly’s pussy as they hit a rhythm together. Waverly slid just far enough back so that Nicole could catch a breath at the apex before her nose would be buried again. Nicole did her best to get everywhere, into every fold and along every ridge, dipping deep as she could reach with her tongue. 

All Nicole could hear was the sound of Waverly’s pussy slicking along her face, heavy breathing from above, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Without the use of her hands, she had no method to push Waverly faster, harder. In essence, she was restrained to Waverly’s pace, Waverly’s needs, Waverly’s decisions, and it was  _ good _ .

Waverly’s hips stuttered, hand clenching in Nicole’s hair at one particular spot, one sharp suck and circular lick of her clit. Nicole repeated it, eager to please, and Waverly cursed again. Opening her eyes, Nicole watched as she used just the faintest edge of her teeth. 

“Yeah,” Waverly said, eyes catching on Nicole’s gaze and holding it. Determination and desperation commingled in the fierce knit of her brow, the way her teeth caught and held her lip.

Nicole hummed through her nose and repeated the move, bolder now, rougher, wetter. Her breaths came fast, loud through her nose, the urge to thrust fingers inside Waverly making her fingers curl and dig against the mitts holding them captive. Waverly was  _ close _ , trembling on the precipice, Nicole could tell by the way Waverly ground in small circles on her mouth, by the eager sounds gritting out between Waverly’s clenched teeth. 

All Nicole could do was try, just as desperately, just as eagerly, to please Waverly with only her mouth, only her intimate knowledge of Waverly’s body, emblazoned in her memory after so many long, cold months without her. But despite that distance, the connection they’d had ever since that first makeout session in the Sheriff’s office was blazing open, honest and needy and  _ incredibly  _ hot.

“Righ’ there, yeah,” Waverly rasped out. 

Waverly’s clit was  _ so _ firm, caught between Nicole’s teeth and lips, rolling across her tongue. Nicole matched the tiny, circling rocks of Waverly’s hips, finding the pattern that made Waverly’s eyelids twitch, that made each successive circle yank a sound out of Waverly’s throat, and rode it through the growing ache in her jaw, the wetness trickling down her face and neck, the way Waverly pulled her hair. 

The headboard groaned with Waverly’s grip and Nicole moaned as Waverly came undone on top of her, rolling her pussy messily, wetly, and with fierce hot determination over Nicole’s face until she stilled, tense. Nicole heard/saw/felt Waverly come, holding her tongue still and flat for the jolting, tiny ruts Waverly made against it, halting the urge to intensify her efforts and giving in to Waverly taking her own pleasure from her mouth.

Nicole didn’t even realize that she’d stopped breathing until Waverly lifted off her, collapsing to one side in a staggering heap of limbs. Freed of her burden, Nicole inhaled, relishing the fresh chill of the air hitting all of the skin wet with Waverly’s pleasure, gasping in breaths that reminded her that she was alive, that she was Waverly’s, that she was fucking turned  _ on _ .

Nothing, nothing else in this world got Nicole ready to go more than eating Waverly Earp out. She was drenched, sure that there was a growing wet spot under her ass, yet there was nothing she could do but roll her hips with helpless thrusts and clench on nothing at all. Looking over at Waverly, Nicole licked her lips, cleaning thick, sweet wetness off herself. With every exhale, small sounds escaped as she processed the hammering arousal that reminded her she was subject to Waverly’s whims, Waverly’s pace.

“Mm,” Waverly said, scooting close to drape herself over Nicole’s side. 

Every place their bodies touched was like throwing wood on a blazing fire, Nicole’s skin so sensitized to Waverly’s touch that she could no more restrain her moan than she could stop the helpless little jolts of her hips. Her nipple brushed the underside of Waverly’s arm.

“Tell me, Nicole,” Waverly said, lips tickling her shoulder, tongue tasting her skin.

The words tumbled out with that generous permission. “Please, Waverly, please, I’m so turned on, you know I love licking your pussy.” Nicole licked her lips again, tasting, smelling Waverly on every eager breath. “Please let me come, I’m so ready, it won’t take very long, I need you so much,  **please** .” 

The last word was almost a groan as Waverly’s fingers took up a lazy, slow pinch of her nipple.

“You do beg so prettily for me, Nicole. Okay, though next time I’m going to make you really work for it.”

Languidly, Waverly dragged her hand across Nicole’s stomach, dipping playfully into her bellybutton. Nicole stared at Waverly’s face, at the mischievous curl of her lips, at the dilated eyes still soft from orgasm, and she swallowed. 

“Please.”

“Patience, I’ll get you where you need to go. You just need to trust me, Nicole.”

The rasp in Waverly’s voice, still rough from when she’d come against Nicole’s face, that sound drove Nicole even further into her own arousal, that trusting, eager, floaty place where she could safely  _ let go _ of everything and let Waverly lead. Nicole hadn’t felt like this in ages, not since the relatively halcyon days of revenants and weird demons, before Bulshar came to town and stole Waverly away for those long 18 months. 

Nicole almost wanted to verbalize the feeling, to codify it, but her voice didn’t work with Waverly’s  _ fingers _ tugging her nipple again, mind so strung out on the mere, human reality of being Waverly’s person. Instead, she nodded. 

“Good,” Waverly purred, and the tug at Nicole’s breast turned into a roll, a sparkling flood of pleasure that tunneled back through Nicole’s empty pussy.

When a thigh was thrown over her leg and clever fingers finally braced her clit, Nicole didn’t even make a sound, just shivered in anticipatory bliss. Her body was primed, a live wire, the contact sparking straight through her and dripping into a deep, monumental pool of … calm.

“Shit, baby, you’re so wet,” Waverly said, dragging through all of the arousal Nicole had been accruing. “You’re suddenly quiet too,” a finger slipped inside, Nicole’s hips tilting automatically to accept it, “can you give me a color?”

At that very moment, Waverly’s concern felt far away, but Nicole could always give Waverly a color. She’d always give Waverly anything she asked for, really. 

“Green.” Nicole’s voice seemed slow, syrupy to her own ears.

Waverly’s “Good girl,” went straight to the peaceful fire growing inside Nicole, rippling outward in slow, golden waves of pleasure that carried her buoyed upon them. Nicole was floating, shining, drifting and yet still, present, as Waverly dipped two fingers inside, settling a thumb on her clit, the sensations familiar and comfortable as they were earthshakingly good.

Waverly  _ knew _ Nicole, knew her body and mind and soul, and Nicole relaxed into the instinct to let go. Her pleasure bloomed hotter in the wake of that release, growing with every stroke, every slow-plunging thrust. Her nipple was enveloped in warmth and she gasped, arching, hips grinding against Waverly’s clever hand, pulling against the cuffs at her ankles and wrists.

“You like that?” Your breasts are always so sensitive.” 

Teeth sank into the flesh of Nicole’s breast and the pressure made her whine, writhing against Waverly’s weight, against her bonds. It was slow, hard, just like Nicole liked it. The pain faded into pleasure, even as Waverly’s teeth tightened, and Nicole felt her skin light up with sensations that blazed ever brighter, making a new nexus of pleasure. 

The bite was released, rushing pain back through the endorphins that had already built, and Nicole moaned with the flood of sensation morphed by her masochism and Waverly’s skill into pleasure. Her chest, stomach, legs, everything flooded with warmth, but in this state she let even that thought slide away in favor of Waverly’s attentions.

“You’re … in subspace, aren’t you?” Waverly asked, smoothing Nicole’s hair back from her forehead even as her thumb continued to work Nicole’s clit.

“Mhm,” Nicole moaned. It felt right. Words, she needed words. “S’nice, don’ stop.”

A kiss to her cheek. Nicole supposed her eyes must be closed. “I won’t. I love you.” 

Then soft lips teased Nicole’s and she opened to that sensation too, soft, warm, wet. She absorbed everything. The cuffs on her wrists and ankles, the warm weight of Waverly against her side, the way Waverly’s fingers plunged and rubbed and slid with her, inside of her, stretching her open. Nicole rocked with them, into them, matching her rhythm to what Waverly wanted, taking and taking and letting it flow through her.

Nicole’s incipient orgasm, slow-building and monumental in its foundation, started as tingling in her toes and fingers, marching inexorably up her limbs in a wave of warm satisfaction.

Nicole moaned into Waverly’s mouth as her body clenched, squeezing at Waverly’s fingers as they continued to stroke, press, glide. Waverly’s murmurs of support, love, affection poured into her as she shuddered through her peak, wrenchingly sweet and sharp at once, rippling outward and then crashing back into her center. But it didn’t stop, didn’t end, just built again and circled there, scintillating, at her core. Nicole kept rolling her hips into Waverly’s hand, seeking more and receiving it, panting her way into another wave that crashed out to her fingertips and toes, hot and thick and  _ good.  _

“Baby,” Nicole heard, as if through muffling cloth. “You still going?”

“Gree’,” Nicole managed to slur. Waverly’s attentions continued, intensified, got  _ even better. _

Waverly’s words swept over and through her, calm and soft and praiseful. Nicole didn’t,  _ couldn’t _ focus on them, so wrapped up in the sweet-sparking warmth centered at Waverly’s hand and spiraling through her, stealing her breath and turning her brain into stardust.

Eventually, slowly, it faded, and she stopped bucking into Waverly’s hand. Fingers began to caress her skin, so lightly that she barely felt them. Nicole hummed as she sank into the pool of her afterglow, warm and safe under Waverly’s protection.

A few – or many, it was hard to tell – minutes later, Nicole languorously, unhurriedly swam back to the surface of her own consciousness. Waverly had thrown covers over them both and was curled up next to her, still with one thigh thrown over her hip. Her hand had wandered to Nicole’s upper arm, where she was absentmindedly stroking a scar.

Nicole tugged at her hands. The stretch on her shoulders had started to make them go numb.

“Mm, hey,” Waverly said, words soft as she shifted and reached. The cuffs came loose from the headboard and Nicole brough her hands down, still safely mitted but no longer tied together, to a more comfortable position as Waverly tucked herself back against her side.

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Floaty.”

Waverly chuckled. “Good. Enjoy that.”

“Mm.” Nicole sighed. 

She looked up at Waverly, realizing that she hadn't felt safe like this since, since … before.

The tears started before she realized, before she could even put a name to the emotions pulling them out through the sudden tightness in her chest, leaking from her eyes, and through the blurry wetness she saw Waverly's eyes go wide.

When Waverly went for the cuffs, fumbling with the velcro, Nicole stopped her, "No! No, I need them, I need to keep them on, please don't take them off, I need–"

Waverly stopped. "Okay, okay, I've got you, just tell me what you need, Nicole, I'm here, what’s wrong? Was it something I did?"

“No,” Nicole choked out, hating her shaky voice, caught up in emotions she could not completely extricate from each other, just trying to figure out  _ why now _ . She wrapped her arms, mitts and all, around Waverly and pulled her close.

She’d been so good, so responsible about not dominating the conversation around the Earps’ homecoming, so focused on getting shit done. She’d fought and scraped and bled and  _ died _ for them, at first not knowing whether she’d ever see Waverly again, and she hadn’t really had time to understand that they were really back, that they were  _ here _ , not even in the past few days … she’d left herself open to this.

Here, in this liminal space, so engineered that she could not possibly hurt Waverly, Nicole had let go of all that rigid control, all the self-made blocks and stops and makeshift, ramshackle barricades she'd built up after their return to stop the inescapable chasm of loss in her soul from opening up and sucking her loved ones into the same despair she'd wallowed in for so long. 

Nicole managed to speak past the tears, mouth wet on Waverly’s shoulder, hair in her mouth, messy and choked, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Hey, hey, don’t be sorry, I’ve got you baby.” Waverly clung just as tightly back. “I’m here.”

Nicole, exhausted by that brief attempt at control, let go and  _ wept. _

Later, much later, aided by therapy and introspection, Nicole would sort through everything, every _ one _ she was weeping for. Dolls, her friend and constant supporter, lost far too soon. Doc, someone she’d considered a friend before he slipped on his eroded morals and taken a darker path. Jeremy, a good, healthy friendship torn by time and duty and desperation. Rachel, lost and lonely and unable to open herself up to anyone anymore. Calamity, her poor baby cat, missing and presumed dead. Wynonna, her best friend, betrayer of Nicole’s agency and always haunted by demons no gun could slay. 

And Waverly, Waverly, Waverly, stolen by destiny and wrenched back by betrayal,  _ Nicole’s _ betrayal, to a world that had lacked her for far too long. To a  _ Nicole _ that had lacked her for far too long.

But right then? There was only grief, and loss, and the release that had broken the floodgates of her mental walls.

A long time later – too long, Nicole told herself – Nicole snuffled and pulled back from Waverly’s slick shoulder, wiping away tears and worse with one inner arm.

Nicole said the first thing that occurred to her. “Waverly, I’m sorry, you didn't sign on for this.”

Waverly pulled herself up, hands going to Nicole’s face. Her voice and face were resolute as she smoothed Nicole’s hair back. “I  **did** sign on for this, for you Nicole. For all of you. For the good and the bad, the happy but also the sad.” She kissed Nicole’s forehead, her own tears starting to well in her eyes as she pulled back to meet Nicole’s gaze again. “I am going to  _ marry _ you and I want all of you with every single tiny part of myself.”

Nicole laughed, messy and wet. “I’m not who I was when you left, Waverly. I'm so weak, if I'd just  _ waited _ for you–”

“You listen to me, Nicole Haught.” The determination on Waverly’s face was reminiscent how she’d looked when she’d ridden Nicole’s face, just brief minutes (or hours? Nicole had no concept of time anymore) ago. Loving, fierce, unwavering, despite the tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. 

Waverly said, “You went through  _ unbearable _ loss, you did better than anyone can be expected to do. You got through it and you kept Rachel alive and you are still here, still mine, still the woman I want to see and touch and kiss and  _ fuck _ every day for the rest of my life. 

“How could I ever hold anything against you, Nicole? You are a part of my heart just like I'm a part of yours. We are each other's person, Nicole, and if anything comes between us I will move heaven and earth to come back to you, just as I know you’ll do the same. Your deal might have opened the door or not, we might never know, but you did what you did because you care so much for me, for Wynonna, that you had to act. How could I ever judge you?”

Nicole’s vision wavered, full of fresh tears even as she wondered  _ how _ she could have any moisture left in her body. “I don’t deserve you.”

“We deserve each other, Nicole. We deserve to be happy. We deserve only good things, and we will fight, together, side by side, to make those good things a reality.”

Nicole sobbed once, then said, “I just don’t feel like I’m strong enough.”

“You don’t have to be strong enough to do it all, baby. None of us are on our own, not even Wynonna. I’m sorry you’ve felt like you had to carry so much for us – you don’t have to, I need you to be beside me, not ahead or behind.”

Nicole chuckled through her sobs. “The view from the back is really nice, though.”

Waverly’s response sounded like a laugh. “We’ll get through this as long as you can still tell a joke.”

“We all need a lot of therapy, I think.”

“So much therapy. Do you think any of Purgatory’s therapists have come back to town?”

“We can check tomorrow.” Nicole yawned. Now that the immediacy of her emotional unloading had passed, she felt drained, emptied-out, and dead tired. “I’m sleepy.”

“C’mon. Let me fix your ankles and we’ll go to sleep. We can always talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Nicole felt Waverly messing with her cuffs, then her legs were free. The light clicked off, and she rolled, gathering Waverly in her arms, and closed her eyes.

No dreams came to her that night.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Nicole woke to bright sunlight and a curious feeling of lightness. She kept her eyes closed, chasing that contentment, unwilling to let the liminal space of after-waking fog flee just yet in favor of the needs of the day. She'd have to get up soon, to check the traps, to get food for herself and Rachel, to–

The warm body in her arms shifted slightly, and Nicole was suddenly wide awake, staring at the wild mess of Waverly's hair, feeling how she'd wrapped herself around Waverly's back in the night. She felt the cuffs and mitts next and, with the memory of the previous night, an utter  _ shockwave _ of arousal hooked behind her belly button and  _ pulled. _

Nicole managed somehow not to groan, but she must have made some noise because Waverly shifted again, breathing a deep sigh as she nestled deeper into Nicole's arms. 

Nicole almost held her breath, utterly blown away by the almost unbelievable luxury of waking up after a night of incredible sex with Waverly  _ here _ , in  _ their  _ bed, in  _ their _ home. Tears gathered again but she simply let them fall, dripping onto the pillow, blessed perhaps by the exhaustion of her stores of grief to not be sobbing outright and thus not waking her sleeping fiancée. 

Waverly's words from the previous night, her impassioned speech in response to Nicole's utter breakdown, had been exactly what she needed to hear. Nicole's belief in herself, in her ability to overcome obstacles, had been sorely shaken, eroded by ages of loneliness, loss, and fear. It wasn't back, not entirely. She still felt the utter, paralyzing terror of losing Waverly or anyone else and didn't trust herself to stop that from happening. But until she regained her belief in herself, Waverly's certainty could substitute for her own. Even when she was at her weakest, Nicole  _ believed  _ in Waverly Earp. If Waverly believed in them, who was Nicole to argue with her?

_ They're home. They're home, and we are all going to fight together to make damn sure they stay home.  _

Nicole let her tears fall into the pillow and, feeling peaceful for the first time since before she could remember, she let herself relax back into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! BDSM is quite energy-intensive to write and this was pretty vulnerable place for Nicole (and for me). I hope you are all staying safe and healthy in this year of pandemic.
> 
> Come find me on Twitter! [@SmugMischief](https://twitter.com/SmugMischief)


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